Below in the deep there's adventure and danger,
That's where you'll find Diver Dan.
The sites that he sees are exciting and stranger,
Than ever you'll find on the land!
He moves among creatures of frightening features,
Flashing teeth slashing jaws, flapping fins snapping claws.
He protects and he saves his friends under the waves,
That's where you'll find Diver Dan.
Hey boys and girls….did ya miss me? I didn’t think so. After a slow start this year born of weather, sniffles and travel, I was determined to get out today…. the first day of spring, promises of warming ocean temps, promises of sunshine and salt air…..I was excited.
I packed up the night before, powdering my seals and searching out my errant 4th element top and just the right socks to make my toes toasty. I set my alarm and drifted off to sleep with visions of shipwrecks draped in seaweed and fish large and small, lobsters and scallops, hydroids and aneomes and starfish, sharks…. eels…. giant squid and whales….. ummmm.
BEEEEP….BEEEEEEP……BEEEEEP…..time to get up. I gathered my gear and headed for the car. It was a bit nippy out, not spring like at all…… and I had to scrape the frost off of the windows, where was my sunshine and flowers?
I stopped for coffee and to scrape more frost from the windows and soon was on my way. As I arrived at the marina I spied Francis and Howard onboard and as I backpacked my tanks down the gangway I was passed by Jack all sunny and tanned from his latest Florida foray. I loaded on board and soon Bart roused and loaded on, joining us just before Bob arrived and now we were ready to head out. Six eager little faces straining to see what awaited us at the end of the inlet. There was talk of the Hankins, the Big one or the Little one, String Wreck, Locomotives, Spring Lake Sailer and the Bell Holder(I got the Historical Divers report but will save it for the next dive on her) ….. and of course the need for lobster, mussels, sinkers and a fish two. We didn’t want much.
The reported swells with 17 seconds betwixt and between were greatly exaggerated and we found ourselves with a north wind and some mondo chop….. like the little ship on Gilligan’s Island we braved the waves and headed for………what else………the Cobblestone Wreck. I think it amuses them to do this to me and they weren’t done having their fun yet, saving the best for a little later.
Now, I have been on the Cobblestone wreck before. An old wooden barge that sank carrying a load of Cobblestone. It is sometimes referred to as the New Deal wreck since it is close to another popular wreck and can be easily substituted when there is another boat there first, thus, giving you a “new deal”.
We arrived and quickly snagged a piece of wreckage and the pool was open. Now, someone, no finger pointing here, forgot the heater…… so it was a bit chilly gearing up this morning. But anticipation of the wreckage with low lying debris, high sections of intact wall, and sinkers and lures strung like Christmas tree decorations called to us, and we quickly geared up and dropped one by one into the cold green water. I was last in (hey…far end of the bench and my gloves were at the bottom of the hot water cooler!!! I was being polite)….last in and as I surfaced from my perfectly executed knee roll over the starboard gunnel I caught in the strong surface current and was swept towards the stern even as I kicked steadily trying to make headway to the granny line thoughtfully in place. As I grabbed hold of the line and pulled myself down, something was just not right….. I stopped and jiggled my rig, trying to reposition it on my back but that wasn’t it, a little deeper and my neck seal started to press in at my throat, making my breaths come a little harder each time. I stopped, got vertical, took a few breaths and tried moving gear about, adjusting hoses and my valves, pulling tanks up higher and tugging at my hood. But it just seemed to get worse, so before reaching the anchor I turned my dive.
I surprised Howard and Francis as I started up the ladder, they hadn’t expected me back so soon and they grabbed my manifold and pulled me up on deck and off the bouncing ladder. This was not good and I was disappointed. As I pulled at my neck seal and adjusted the layers of clothing below it, divers began to appear at the ladder.
Bart first, with only a few grand sinkers in tow and questions about the wreck. Visibility was dark green and only about 10 feet, no fish and there was a current on the bottom….. but the wreck reminded him of something else. Then Jack was at the transom with a good sized lobster in tow and a similar story, commenting that the wreck had a spooky look to it. Bob arrived on deck and as Howard geared up I was right behind him, having reworked my insulating layers, lengthening my reg necklace and foregoing my chest strap I once again rolled over the side. I grabbed hold of the line as I entered the water and came up ready to vent my wing and head down.
Much better this time and I noted the thick dark green color or the water as I made my way down. As my hand ran out of rope and began to feel chain, I still could not see the wreck. The tall aneome and coral covered piece of wreckage appeared quite suddenly and I followed the chain down to the anchor and the wall of wreckage down to the sand.
Here, piled together, were gargantuan starfish, nestled one atop the other. There were long thin boards lying in the sand and I pulled at them looking for a sturdy place to tie my reel in. The water was cloudy and green and visibility about 10ft. I had tossed extra weight in my pocket for the current and an extra line cutter for the mountains of fishing line always present here. As I made my way down the wall of the wreck I noted it was covered in hydroids, anemones and soft corals. There were broken clam shells in the sand and live sand dollars covered in their dark brown velvet coats. Large hermit crab shells dotted the landscape and each one I picked up was occupied. No fish were about and moon snails were nowhere to be seen. I passed several perfect circles of hydroids and aneomes closing up as I approached and swaying gently in the current as if there were a breeze blowing past. They were perched in the sand just a few yards from the wreck walls and looked to be about the size of car tires…..hmmmm
I ran out my line, staying close to the sand and looking about for something more to poke but it seemed no one was home today. I turned and headed back reeling in my line as the current carried me back and staying higher on the wreck hoping to catch a glimpse of something. Maybe even cobblestone. I have been here 3 times and have yet to see any of the cobblestones on this wreck.
At the chain Howard signaled up as he was pulling the anchor behind us and I slowly made my way up the line with Howard right below me. But not for long, he soon passed me like his shorts were on fire and was up on the boat and out of his suit by the time I arrived on deck. He apparently was cold and no man or woman was slowing his pursuit of a warm jacket and sunshine.
My computer registered 40F at 82fsw and as I stripped off my gear I was informed there had been a slight error….. we were not on the Cobblestone Wreck after all. We were on…… the Pinta…. Ooops…..long pieces of lumber in the sand, high intact walls…… yup…..they do this on purpose you know….it’s like a test or something.
As we made our way to the Cobblestone Wreck once again, the seas were beginning to lay down and we talked boats and fishing and one of us basked in the warmth of the sun coming though the cabin window proclaiming he felt like a “flower in the sun”. I gotta get out more…..We arrived at the Cobblestone Wreck and quickly tied in. While the cabin was 60F with the sun streaming in and I had remembered my hat and gloves, I was still a bit chilled
and opted out of dive #2 while I was still comfortable and having a good day. Howard and Francis joined me and the others rolled off both port and starboard like mice abandoning ship.Their dives were short, with reports of cooler water and lessening viz. None the less, Bob once again was last onboard and he was excited.
He had run right into a lobster and making a quick grab dropped him in his bag. But right after that…. He had fallen upon a fish…. A fish too big to let pass…. Slightly sluggish in the cold water and pinned against the wreckage our very own Rambo of the deep pulled out his trusty dive knife and while mentally plotting his move with grid by grid analysis, he did a Tarzan move and took this behemoth of a fish with a quick stab to the head. Holding him in place and swooping him into his goody bag he ascended the ladder onto the boat and tossed his prize catch on the deck.
He had managed to snag, with a clean stab to the head, a black fish weighing in at over 14lbs. (I poked him) Luckily Francis had his camera because you really had to see it to believe it. Good job Bob! After hearing about the cold and deteriorated visibility, I was not disappointed in my decision to pass on the dive and I wrapped myself in my blanket and snuggled in for the trip home and stories of boats and adventures and dives past.
We were soon at the dock and loaded up for home… lobsters, blackfish, sinkers and clams in tow, but not a single cobblestone…..I think they are a myth…..